


Down Here Below

by DawnsEternalLight



Series: Whumptober 2020 [4]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Bombs, Canon-Typical Violence, Delayed Drowning, Drowning, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Near Drowning, Stabbing, Underwater, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27047953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: Just about everything seems to be against them as Nightwing and Robin attempt to disarm some underwater bombs. Things go wrong, bad guys attack, and someone has to hold their breath.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Series: Whumptober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956973
Comments: 13
Kudos: 162





	Down Here Below

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my late entry for Day 13: Breathe in Breathe Out, Delayed Drowning

Damian unclipped his cape as the boat zipped towards one of Gotham’s largest and oldest bridges. He carefully folded the cape and tucked it onto one of the seats at the front of the batboat.

He glanced at the bridge, and saw the fireworks going on up there. Even from this distance he could see smoke and hear distant gunshots. Red Hood, Signal were busy distracting Two Face and his men, while also disarming the bombs set atop the bridge. 

“Update.” Father’s voice demanded in his ear. 

“We are a minute out.” Damian said, turning to glance back at Nightwing who was piloting the boat, “How are things on your end?”

Father, Drake, Cain, and Brown were all at a completely different bridge miles away, doing the same thing Damian and his team were now. Half the group up top dealing with physical bombs and men set to protect them, while the other two snuck around to find the bombs attached below the water. If those went the whole bridge would go down. 

“Also about a minute out. Looks like the bombs are set on every other column of this one.” Brown’s voice was partially muffled by the sound of wind whipping past her. 

As they came closer, Damian changed the setting on his lenses and looked down at the support columns rising from the water that kept the bridge held high. He could see glimmers of warmth below, set at even intervals, shining red against the chill of Gotham’s waters. 

Damian shuddered at the idea of the cold water. He did not want to jump down into those chilly depths. 

“It seems the same here.” Damian confirmed.

“That’s not a surprise.” Richard’s voice came both from behind him, and from his ear, “Two Face rarely breaks form. They’d both be the same.”

They pulled up now by one of the support columns near the center of the bridge and Damian moved to collect their small portable speeders as Richard turned the boat off and moved to stand next to him. Together they anchored the boat on the beam. 

The speeders were sleek black devices that hooked onto their backs and would help move them through the water. Each had a motor and tank filled with gas that would power the dual propellers on each side. They had little arms that came forward to help with steering and power. It was almost half Damian’s size, and while above water it would feel bulky, once they got below he’d be fine. 

Richard reached out and helped Damian get his on and snapped in place and Damian returned the favor, the devices could be gotten into on their own, but it was quicker and more pleasant to have help. This was one thing Damian did not feel like trying to prove himself over. The last thing he wanted was to topple over from its weight and have Richard laugh at him. 

Damian pulled out his rebreather mask, and pressed the smooth plastic to his face, waiting a moment for it to attach itself. When he looked up, Richard had also placed his over his face and was grinning at Damian. He gave him a thumbs up and they both jumped over the edge of the boat. 

The cold of the water hit Damian’s exposed skin as soon as he was submerged, his uniform was a little better at keeping the cold out, insulated as it was, but he’d rather be quick over freezing. As he flicked the speeder on he hoped his body would adjust to the chill quickly. If they’d had more time he would be wearing something more appropriate but as it was, he just hoped to get things done quickly. 

He steered his speeder away from Richard, just down to the next bomb, the bright light blinking in the water. 

The plan was to start from the center and work their way out to the opposite ends of the bridge, taking out the bombs as quickly as possible. Then they’d meet back at the boat and be done. Damian hoped it would be as simple as all that. 

Damian turned the speeder off and leaned towards the bomb, reaching out to start the process of disarming it. It was a type Damian was familiar with, and had disarmed previously. As he placed his hands on it, he pushed back memories of the last time he’d disarmed a bomb underwater, or rather tried to. 

It had been back when Richard was Batman still, right after Father had returned. Cain had needed to pull Damian out of the way as the timer had cut itself down by half, and stole precious time from Damian’s attempt. 

He’d had two chances at that bomb. The first that had almost gotten them killed, and the second they’d set off purposefully. Cain was not here to pull him away today, and Richard was working on his own projects. Damian had learned from then, he had proved himself since then and his only goal now was save the bridge. 

Thankfully this was not the same type of bomb at all. It was fairly easy to disarm as long as he was careful. He started working on the bomb, and to his relief the timer ticked on at it’s normal rate. Soon he’d finished it off, and was moving on to the next. There were eight bombs in total, four for him, and four for Richard to handle. 

They could do this. 

Just as he thought that, black clad divers seemed to materialize out of nowhere in the face of the light on the front of his speeder. Obviously they had not come out of nowhere, the water was not incredibly murky, but still it was harder to see far underwater at night than it would be during the day. 

Damian had to drag his speeder over, jerking out of the way as two came at him with speeders of their own. 

“Nightwing, enemies on speeders incoming. Keep an eye out!” he called as a warning, glad their masks still allowed for talking. The regular small rebreathers they used would have prohibited him sending a warning to his brother. 

His mind raced to figure out which of his tools would work best in the water. Obviously anything thrown must account for the fact that they were underwater, so he needed something that had good power against the water’s resistance. 

Damian slipped his grapple from his belt and aimed it up, towards the closest man and his speeder. He eyed one of the sets of propellers on the enemy speeder and shot. 

His grapple dinged off the side, and Damian worried it would miss completely, but then one of the prongs caught one of the propeller blades and the power cut out with a flash of electricity and smoke, clogging the water further. 

Quickly, he retracted it, hoping he wouldn’t lose the hook. It almost came loose, then caught further as the diver and craft sunk. Damian swore under his breath and hit the button that released the cord, letting it swing down through the water. 

One weapon down unless he got a chance to replace the line, but Damian doubted that. Besides, he needed to reserve his spare just in case he had to use it to escape the water quickly. 

He was so focused on the grapple and it’s problems that he missed the second speeder racing towards him, and the muffled crack of a gun being shot underwater. He didn’t have time to properly adjust, instead throwing his weight to the side. 

The bullet missed his speeder. Damian thought it had also missed him completely, until the pain in his calf caught up with him. He hissed, and tamped down the urge to look at the damage. He was basically laying in the water, with his speeder on his back so any examination would require him craning his whole body, not just his head, and he needed his full attention for this fight.

There were still two men coming at him, both holding guns. Damian slipped a few batarangs from his belt and threw them wildly at both men more as a distraction than a real attack. 

It worked as both swerved away from him and each other.

He shifted towards the one who’d pulled off to the left and actually aimed a batarang at this one. From this angle he couldn’t quite catch the propeller, so instead he aimed for the tube carrying air from his tanks up to his face. The Batarang split it cleanly, it took a moment for the man to realize his air had been cut off, and then he was zooming up towards the surface of the water. 

Two down, one to go. 

Damian spun around, eyes searching for the final man. He spotted the speeder, and raced over towards it. As Damian approached, he realized there was no driver. The acceleration had been held down by a glove tied around it. 

Realizing the trap, Damian spun his speeder, or at least he tried. As he moved he felt something burst above him, shaking the whole apparatus. From here, Damian could hear the engine explode, and metal rained down on him, a piece slicing through his cheek as it raced past. 

He hissed in pain, but had to focus on getting out of the now toppling speeder. It’s weight dragged him down, and Damian had to fumble for the latch against his chest. He got it unhooked, and kicked himself up. 

The final diver was just above him, already swimming down to meet him. In his hand, he held a large knife. Damian ducked as the diver swung his blade at him, and threw a punch that missed wildly. He tried kicking out, catching the man’s side. The movement sent a flash of pain shooting up his leg and into his teeth as he grit them, he’d forgotten about the gunshot wound already. 

Before Damian could pull away, his leg was grabbed and twisted. Damian moved with it, intent on not making his injury any worse than it was. He tried to turn the twist on his attacker, but the guy’s grip was firm, and Damian couldn’t pull away. 

The diver caught onto the sluggish stream of red rising from Damian’s calf. Damian could just make out the whites of teeth in a vicious grin behind his mask, before the guy adjusted his grip with one hand and squeezed. 

Damian yelled as his vision whited out for a moment with pain. He blinked away white flickering lights as he slipped his hand into a pocket on his belt and pulled out another batarang, throwing it wildly forward. 

It must have hit it’s mark because he heard a returning yell from his attacker, and felt his grip slacken enough for Damian to pull his leg free. 

He scrambled backwards, shoving at the water with his hands and good leg before righting himself to suck in air from his rebreather. 

The diver was already coming at him again, and flew into Damian, grabbing at him. They grappled for a few seconds, each tugging at the other’s mask. The man elbowed Damian in the face, and knocked his mask away from him. 

Damian kicked out, knocking the man away. He dove down, blinking at the stars in his vision and grabbing for the mask. He snatched it, and shoved it back against his face, hitting a button to eject the water. 

He coughed into it for a moment before turning back to face his opponent again. The guy was coming again. While Damian admired his tenacity, this was really not a fight he was interested in continuing. 

Damian had to lurch backwards, again and again as the man thrust his knife towards him. They danced like that for a minute, Damian on the defensive, searching for an opening, and the man relentless as he tried to gut Robin like one of the many fish this fight had scared away. 

Plans raced through his mind. If he went up, the man would catch his legs. But if he could get the momentum to drop fast enough and duck down he could probably get the man by the waist or one of his legs and fling him away. It wouldn’t fix the problem but it would give Damian a second to figure out how to incapacitate him. 

After the next thrust, as the man was pulling back to start another, Damian shoved himself down in the water, aiming for the man’s flippered feet. He caught his legs and kicked, ignoring the sharp pain in his leg at the movement. 

Thankfully, everything was lighter underwater, even men twice Damian’s size. He dragged the guy forward, and then shifted his hold on the man’s legs pulling him further, ready to release him when he’d built up enough momentum. His opponent wasn’t going down without a fight however, and shoved at Damian, slashing widely at his armored torso. 

Too much was going on now for Damian to really protect himself, but thankfully his vest was catching most of the attacks. One wild blow caught Damian right under the arm. The man, seeing he’d hit flesh, stabbed forward with all the strength he could muster even as Damian kicked him away. 

Damian threw a full handful of batarangs at him, one at last nicking his oxygen line and sending him kicking up towards the surface. 

For a moment, Damian floated there, catching his breath. He needed to get it under control and not waste the air in his rebreather. He turned to the blade, shoved in his arm and winced. He couldn’t do much with it poking out like that, but after a brief examination, it had sliced skin, and uniform, and didn’t seem to be physically wedged in Damian. 

He tugged it out, and slipped the blade into his belt, just in case. It might come in useful tonight, or help them track down any of Two Face’s men who got away later. 

With that, Damian had to reorient himself, searching for the next bomb. At last, he caught the bright red that was it’s timer, and started towards it. His leg protested the movement, but Damian ignored it. He couldn’t let the bridge blow up just because he’d been shot. 

“Nightwing?” he said, jabbing at the comm in his ear, and hoping he didn’t sound out of breath, “Status?”

There was a slight delay and then, “All good here. Thanks for the warning, I just sent two would-be saboteurs back to the surface.” 

Damian sighed in relief. He was glad he didn’t need to rush over to Richard to be back up. Without his speeder he would be so much slower, with little chance to get to Richard in time if he needed him. 

“I have also dispatched with my enemies. Though I lost my speeder in the scuffle.”

“Got it.” Richard responded, “I’ve got one bomb to go then I’ll head your way.” 

Damian tsked but did not refuse his brother’s assistance. He made it to the second bomb and paused, holding onto it for a moment. His leg was really hurting, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold water or because the bullet had hit something more vital than muscle. 

He didn’t really have time to worry about his leg however. The timer was still ticking down. Damian needed to disarm this, and then head towards his next one, even with Richard behind him. It didn’t make sense to leave the rest of them to Richard when he could still swim over to the next one and allow his brother the final, and furthest, bomb. 

He tore the last wire out, and then kicked off the column and towards the next bomb.

“On my way over.” Richard chirped in his ear. 

Damian moved his hand up to respond, then froze as his leg spasmed, pain lacing it, running up and into his back. He gasped, and froze, trying to breath in air from lungs that suddenly didn’t want to cooperate. It took him a moment, his vision blurring a bit, but he could breathe normally at last as the pain faded. 

He glanced down, and saw blood still seeping into the water. He gulped, that couldn’t be good. He didn’t really know how much blood he was losing with the water catching it so fast, and nothing he’d done since being shot had given it any rest. 

He considered just letting Richard handle the last two bombs while he returned to the surface. Just as quickly he shoved the idea aside and started on towards the last red light. He would not leave his brother down here alone.

There was no way of knowing if more men would return to stop them, or if Richard would get to the bomb in time, or any number of other things. 

“Damian look out!” Richard’s voice yelled in his ear. 

Damian froze, turning in one direction and another in search of enemies, and then up to see a torrent of concrete falling through the water at an alarming rate. 

He kicked forward again, intent on swimming past it. If he could just move fast enough he’d be fine. Then his leg spasmed again and Damian yelped. He tried to kick out, but something small hit him, and another, and another, and then Damian was being pulled down by the force of the water being dragged as debris flowed through it. 

In a panic, he twisted to face what was falling towards him, thinking perhaps he could swim up and dodge it that way. As he turned a huge beam slammed into his chest, shoving him back into another piece of debris and Damian lost consciousness. 

He was not out long, but when he came to, he was pinned to the river bottom by the concrete beam that had fallen atop him. Damian blinked, opening his eyes to the mess around him, the water was clouded, so he couldn’t see clearly and a few smaller things were still falling his way popping through the clouded water when they came close. 

Everything hurt. Damian’s head was throbbing where it had connected with the concrete below him and it made his vision blurry. There was pressure on his chest from the beam, squishing his torso with bruising pressure. He felt pinned on both sides as something pointy was jabbed into his back, and another maybe square something was pressed into his hip.

His leg was on fire, but Damian couldn’t see it, when he moved it he could kick freely, meaning his legs were probably in a loose pocket between the debris. That at least was good. Beyond that, he really couldn’t move much pressed beneath the beam. One of his arms was pinned beside his torso. 

The worst feeling though, was the pressure of the concrete against his chest. It hadn’t crushed him, but it might as well have. Breathing was  _ hard _ . Damian was pretty sure something was broken from the impact. 

Richard, he realized, was screaming in his ear.

“I’m here.” he wheezed, ears ringing. 

“Damian! Thank goodness. Did you get away in time?”

“Did--” Damian wasn’t sure why he couldn’t think, maybe it was the blow to his head, “Did you get the bomb?”

“What? No. Tell me what happened.”

Damian shook his head and realized Richard couldn’t see it, “I am partially buried, but currently I am not in immediate peril. The bombs are still our priority. Disarm them first.” 

“Dames--”

“I’m close enough that wasting your time on me will only get us both caught in the explosion.” 

He still couldn’t even see Richard he’d gotten so far to the other side of the bridge. 

“Go, Nightwing.” Damian snapped, “Stop wasting time.” 

After another moment, Richard acquiesced over the line. Damian couldn’t help but feel his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. He was supposed to handle them. Supposed to fix this and get back to safety with Richard. 

And now his brother was doing most of his job for him, and intent on rescuing him. He had surely failed tonight. In what might be a worse way than his failure with Cain. 

Damian decided that the least he could do was free himself. If he could get his other arm loose, then he could get better leverage on the concrete and maybe haul it up and off him. 

He reached his arm up and bit down on his tongue, it  _ hurt _ . The more he pulled the cut, the more exposed it was to the dirty water, and it stung. His head was still pounding too, beating a rhythm in his skull that asked him to not move for a while. But that wasn’t really an option. 

Richard still had two bombs to sort out, and he hadn’t even made it to Damian’s location yet. The speeder was fast, but it still took time. Damian could use that to his advantage. He could fix this disaster. 

He sucked in a steadying breath, and in his ear heard a beeping sound. 

His rebreather mask. 

Damian glanced down at it, but couldn’t see anything outright wrong. Not that it was easy to see from his angle. He’d need a mirror to really get a look at it. So he reached his hand up and felt around it, hoping to feel any damage through his glove. 

There! 

He could feel a crack in the side, right where the canister was that recycled his oxygen. 

That was okay, maybe. This was fine, probably. 

The beeping meant he was low on air, not out. He slapped his hand over the canister, hoping to at least slow the leak. 

One of two options now faced him. He could keep his hand pressed to the leak to give himself a little more time, or try to free himself from the debris atop him. If he let go, he’d lose air faster. But if he held on, he was forced to wait until Richard could disarm both bombs, and attempt to get him free. 

He tapped his comms, “Location?” he asked, hoping his voice sounded normal.

“Just about back at the halfway point.” 

Almost halfway to where they’d started. And Richard still had to pass the bomb Damian had disarmed, reach the other two, and get to him. He was going to be waiting a while. 

“Good.” he said. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to--”

“No.” Damian interrupted him, “I am fine, uncomfortable but I am in no real danger at the moment. The people trapped above us are.” 

He refused to let his brother even consider the idea that Damian needed immediate saving. If the bridge blew they would probably be caught in it anyway, and there was no telling how many of the people Two-Face had trapped up there would die. 

Damian was confident Thomas and Todd could stop Two-Face, but he had no idea how many people they would get away before the bombs went off. This was the best option. Stop the blast, and save everyone. 

He stared up, and eventually saw Richard’s speeder zip above him, leaving little trails of bubbles behind it. The beeping in Damian’s ear was getting insistent, and he could tell the air he had left was stringy and didn’t quite feel right. 

There was nothing to it. He was going to have to hold his breath soon. 

Damian pressed his fingers against his mask a little tighter and tried not to think about drowning down here. About Richard coming back to find his body instead of him. That wouldn’t happen. Damian could hold his breath a long time, even without serious prep. He’d been trained to go up to almost ten minutes. He could do this. 

His back hurt. Whatever was poking him had really begun to bruise, and Damian wanted to shift away from it. When he did wiggle he only succeeded in adding more pressure to his hip. The thing in his back still sat there poking him painfully. 

He groaned, and then pressed his lips together. He shouldn’t make any unnecessary noises or talking or movements. He needed all the air he could get. 

“Damian?” Richard was in his ear, questioning the noise. 

Shoot. 

“Fine, just uncomfortable.” Damian said, trying to both sound normal and use as few words as possible. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of there soon enough. I’m just about at the first armed bomb now.” 

Damian hummed. 

He tried shifting again, hoping to get the pointy rock away from his back. He couldn’t help but worry a bit that it might injure his spine or irritate in it a way that flared up old pain. Damian wiggled a bit, gripping with his trapped hand to try and get some leverage where he had what was essentially none. 

The broken pieces of bridge around Damian shifted then. Whatever was underneath him cracked, and fell a few inches. The hard surface under him dropped away, and Damian floated for a second, having enough sense to yank his suddenly free arm back. Then the rest of the weight dropped on him again, landing against already bruised ribs. 

He yelled, as he felt something snap. Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes. Damian had to bite back a gasp as the structure continued shifting for a moment, mostly down on top of him. Then smaller pieces that had landed atop the large one shifted, and tumbled forward, forcing Damian to jerk up, closer to the structure in an attempt to protect himself from being further bruised. 

His ribs screamed as he pressed them further into the stone. Something smacked the back of his head and he yelped again and jerked face further down. In doing so, his mask caught on a piece of metal jutting out from the concrete. The metal pierced the plastic of the mask and water started flowing in. 

As quickly as he could, Damian sucked in whatever air remained in the mask, filling his lungs before water tickled his mouth then nose. He ignored the way his ribs protested his lungs expansion, his whole chest on fire, and clamped his mouth shut tight. 

He tore the mask off, and in a fit of anger, threw it away from him. He watched as it spun through the water over and over moving away from him, until it was out of sight. 

Now he really needed Richard to hurry. Ten minutes was prime for him when he could prep. He wasn’t sure he could last that long on what he’d gotten. 

Damian turned his attention to his surroundings again and heard his brother yelling over the comms again. 

“Answer me, what happened?!” 

He must have heard the sounds of the concrete shifting from Damian’s comms, and of course his yell. He couldn’t tell his brother he’d lost his mask, that would only make Richard turn from his duty to come save Damian. But he also really couldn’t say anything. So he tapped on the receiver in his ear a light “Ok” in Morse code. 

“What does that mean? What’s going on?” Richard asked, he sounded a little less worried now that he’d heard from Damian even if Damian wasn’t talking. 

Damian thought quickly, and tapped out  _ Disarm bombs.  _

He heard Richard growl, then, “Fine, but you’d better stay in contact, you miss answering me and I’m over there instantly.” 

Damian rolled his eyes. Technically he could answer Richard, he just couldn’t speak. 

“I was in the middle of disarming the first bomb.” Richard continued, “One more and I’m headed your way.”

Waiting, it turned out, was a frustrating thing. 

His chest hurt. Holding his breath wasn’t fun, and it was made worse by an aching set of ribs and what felt like an unbearable pressure on his chest. His leg was also hurting again, it kept spasming, lacing the whole of his leg with pain every time it jerked. While the cold water had numbed it for a bit, all the movement had jarred it back to life, and something was poking at it, not quite in the wound, but close enough Damian couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

Both his arms were free now, but he dared not waste energy trying to shift the block of cinder on him. If he messed up there was no way to call for help and no Richard at hand to catch something that might fall loose. 

So he waited. 

He waited. 

And he waited. 

The pressure in his chest grew, and his head started to get light. Damian had to clap a hand over his mouth and nose, holding it tight. He squeezed his eyes shut against the water if only to focus on not breathing. 

He wanted so much to breathe. To suck in cold, crisp, Gotham air. To let his lungs expel their load and drag in a new one. To not have to worry about concrete pressing against his sternum or his leg throbbing or his arm aching or the hundred other twinges spread across his body. 

“Last bomb.” Richard said, updating him on his location. 

Damian wanted to sigh with relief. Instead he tapped  _ Okay  _ again with his free hand.

The other problem with waiting was not moving. Laying there, meant he wasn’t producing body heat, and the cold of the water had long since twisted it’s way past Damian’s uniform to press against his skin, like a film of cold that would have him shivering if he wasn’t underwater. 

Or maybe he was shivering. 

He wasn’t sure. All he could focus on right now was not breathing. 

His lungs burned. 

He needed air. 

Damian released a small stream of bubbles, just to change the way his chest felt. For a moment it helped, then the burning was there again. 

He swallowed. He wanted Richard  _ now _ . Wished he’d told him his mask was leaking. Wished he’d begged for help. But the bridge needed saving. 

All those people up there were worth more than Damian. 

One life for a hundred. That was okay right? That would count wouldn’t it? If Damian made sure they were okay by keeping Richard on track? It was another mark in the good column. One more thing that screamed “no I am not my grandfather’s heir any longer”. 

He wondered if any of it would ever make him good enough. A little voice in his head said it wouldn’t. He wondered if dying (again) for others might finally wash away all the blood from his hands. Another little voice said it still wasn’t enough. That he’d have to die over and over for every life he’d taken. 

Damian’s chest hitched, his throat thick, and he realized with a start he was crying. At least the water would wash those tears away before Richard could see them. 

Crying was a bad idea. His body wanted to react to it. His chest hitched again, pleading for air. His eyes watered and it was like he wasn’t even wearing a mask at all. 

He wanted to scream. Instead he pinched his nose harder and swallowed back a sob. 

The next time his body jerked, desperate for air, Damian couldn’t stop himself from releasing more air from his lungs, what was left sped out in a steady stream of panicked bubbles. And he had to squeeze both hands over his mouth in a desperate attempt to not breathe in. 

His vision was going blurry and dark. This time it wasn’t because of the tears. 

He thought he heard Richard’s voice in his ear, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. Damian squeezed his eyes shut and curled close to the concrete again. 

The worst thing about this, was that he couldn’t even tell Richard goodbye properly. Couldn’t say he loved him or would miss him or tell him how proud he was to be his brother. 

His chest jerked again, hitching like it would the few times he’d had a panic attack, shuddering and pressing and, Damian couldn’t help it he sucked in a gulp of air before coughing wildly. It did no good. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t--

_ He couldn’t breathe.  _

~

Dick rushed his speeder as fast as he could, going so far as to kick like that would add any speed at all to his movement. His heart hammered out the fact that something was wrong. 

Damian hadn’t responded to him, and while morse code could just indicate his mic was broken, Dick had a sinking suspicion things were worse than that. He’d disarmed the bombs as fast as he could and high tailed it back towards Damian’s location. 

Now he was hurtling down, towards the wreckage that had trapped his brother. 

“Damian!” he begged again, “Answer me, Kiddo.” 

Nothing. He wondered if willpower could make the speeder move faster. 

“Dames please. Anything, anything at all?” 

He could see Damian now, hands pressed to his face where his mask should be. Then bubbles made their way up to Dick instead of being shot away from him by his speeder and Dick knew for a fact that Damian was drowning. 

“No!” he yelled.

And he was down, screaming to a halt beside Damian. Damian whose hands were dropping away from his body. Damian who was floating without any tension in him. Damian who’s mouth hung slack. 

Dick ripped his rebreather from his own mouth and pressed it to Damian’s face, holding it just long enough it gripped his skin. Then he made it eject the water inside, and prayed his brother would breathe in the air afforded to him. 

He kicked down just a bit to get both hands under the cement bar holding Damian down and  _ heaved _ .

It lifted miraculously. Dick wasn’t sure if it was because it was balanced on something else or lighter than it should be or his own surging panic to save his brother but he shoved it up, and far enough he could reach out and drag Damian away. 

He pressed his brother to his chest and roared the engine of his speeder back up and up and up. 

As they moved he kept looking down at Damian. The boy was still limp in his arms, and it made Dick’s heart stutter. He couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. Couldn’t tell if he’d regained consciousness behind his lenses. Couldn’t tell anything.

What he could see was just how beaten and bruised Damian was. He wasn’t sure what was from the fight or the pieces of bridge that had collapsed on him. None of it would matter if he couldn’t make sure Damian was breathing. 

They reached the surface with a tremendous splash, shooting up and out of the water so fast Dick had to fumble with the controls on the speeder to shove them in the direction of the boat. 

“Hold on Damian.” he said, panting, “Almost there.” 

When they reached the boat, it was all Dick could do to haul Damian up and onto the floor of it. He tugged the rebreather mask off Damian’s face, and leaned close to feel if he was breathing. When he felt nothing, Dick tugged Damian’s mouth open, and turned him over. 

Water spilled out of his mouth. Dick waited a second for the flood to slow, then had Damian back on his back again, and waited a few more seconds. When Damian still hadn’t started breathing Dick growled.

He pinched his brother’s nose, and leaned down to start giving him rescue breaths. He wanted to see if he could get Damian’s lungs going again before he had to go full CPR. The kid’s chest was probably already bruised from the rubble, he didn’t want to hurt him any more. 

Dick breathed in one breath, and saw Damian’s chest rise with it, then a second then pulled away, waiting. His heart was in his throat, an unmoving lump. 

He couldn’t lose Damian again. He didn’t think he could bear it. He’d lost his kid once already because he’d been trying to save lives, he didn’t want that again. He wanted him alive. Breathing. Here. Wanted to protect him from every bad thing in the world, and pour all his love on him.

He was just pressing his palms to Damian’s chest when the kid coughed, and spluttered. Dick hurriedly switched his grip to help Damian turn on his side so he didn’t choke on the liquid he was trying to expel. More water poured from Damian’s mouth, and then he was retching out whatever river water remained in his lungs. He coughed a few more times, curling in on himself. 

Dick, his own heart starting up again, brushed a hand along Damian’s forehead, pushing wet hair back, “It’s alright.” he said, out of breath himself, “I got you. You’re alright.” 

After a moment, Damian turned his head so he was facing Dick, “Richard?” his name came out tight and rough.

“I’m here.” Dick hummed, “You’re safe.”

“The bombs?”

Of course Damian would still be concerned about the bombs. The kid had been drowning and hadn’t told him a word about it. Hadn’t even said “Hurry up please”. Dick was going to have to have another talk with him when they got home. After Damian was patched up. And swaddled in some blankets. With cocoa cupped in his hands.

“Disarmed.” Dick soothed, “You’re freezing.” he added, frowning.

“Water’s cold.” 

“Not that cold.” Dick said, then noticed the red streaming through the water, “You’re bleeding. ”

“Got shot.” Damian said, and coughed again, “Hurts.”

Dick swore, and helped Damian back onto his back, “Let me see. Darn it Damian. You should have told me.”

Damian’s leg looked terrible. The kid looked terrible. His suit was torn, he was bleeding from his leg, his arm, even his face hadn’t been spared the fight or collapse or whatever. That wasn’t even considering any injuries he couldn’t see. 

“Here’s what we’re doing,” Dick said, voice firm --though he was pretty sure Damian would listen to anything he had to say right now--, “I’m getting a compression bandage on that leg then we’re going home. The others can finish cleaning up.” 

Damian nodded, then reached a hand up, instinctively Dick caught it, squeezing the smaller hand in his.

“I am happy to be your brother.” Damian said, “You know that, right?”

“Of course, Dames.” Dick leaned down and pressed a kiss to Damian’s forehead, “Now rest up, big bro’s got you.” 


End file.
